


let the years we’re here be kind (we’ll be just fine)

by angelica_barnes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: !NO WINCEST!, (I'm not a monster), Acceptance, Angel Radio (Supernatural), Angst with a Happy Ending, Aromantic Asexual Jack Kline, Asexual Sam Winchester, Castiel Has Mental Health Issues (Supernatural), Castiel Has Self-Worth Issues (Supernatural), Castiel and Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Jack Kline's Parents, Coming Out, Communication, Dean Winchester Has Mental Health Issues, Domestic Fluff, Doubt, Dreams and Nightmares, Established Relationship, Everyone is alive because I said so, Families of Choice, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Acephobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Insomnia, Jack Kline Has Mental Health Issues, Jack calls Sam Mom, Lack of Communication, Love, Marriage Proposal, Married Life, Multi, Nonbinary Claire Novak, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Regret, Relationship Study, Sam Winchester Has Anxiety, Sam Winchester Has Mental Health Issues, Sam Winchester Has Panic Attacks, Self-Esteem Issues, So yeah, Sort Of, Trauma, Unconventional Families, Unconventional Relationship, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, also i fucked with the bunker a little bit, and he calls Cas Zod, because half my fics are just characters, but they're happy i guess, he calls Dean Dad, i dunno i didn't really think about it, i dunno why don't ask just roll with it, i just amplified what they already got, i promise this is happier than i'm making it sound, kevin & charlie are in a queerplatonic relationship, like the whole thing is kind of just ups and downs, not that i need to tag that, please enjoy this mess, see the problem is i didn't even have to create issues, so it's got windows and stairs now, staring out the window at the rain, that headcanon where angels can feel emotions with their wings, there's a possibility they're retired, well except any of the Winchesters' blood relatives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelica_barnes/pseuds/angelica_barnes
Summary: When it comes down to it, the love between the angel, the righteous man, and the boy with the demon blood has never been anything extraordinary. Everyone likes to paint it as some sort of miraculous legend, a fairytale to tell children, but they’ve never been very simple.or,Sam has panic attacks, Dean has anger issues, Cas has self-worth problems, Jack has nightmares, and none of them can sleep.They're working on it.
Relationships: Alex Jones & Jody Mills & Claire Novak, Castiel & Jack Kline & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Sam Winchester, Charlie Bradbury & Kevin Tran, Crowley/Bobby Singer, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	1. Sam

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from "North" and "West" by Sleeping At Last  
> lyrics taken from "North" by Sleeping At Last
> 
> PLAYLIST:  
> come out and play (Billie Eilish)  
> North (Sleeping At Last)  
> You’re The Only Good Thing In My Life (Cigarettes After Sex)  
> Have I Told You (Matthew Mole)  
> i can’t breathe (Bea Miller)  
> My House (Kacey Musgraves)
> 
> i know this ship is unpopular but i really don't care  
> i've shipped it for 12 goddamn seasons now  
> and if no one else is gonna write it then i will
> 
> Sam's panic attacks are triggered by surprising loud noises so if that triggers you please don't read, be safe
> 
> i hope y'all enjoy! :)
> 
> edit november 8 2020: holy fuck destiel is canon.

  
  
  


_ and I know it makes you nervous _

_ but I promise you it’s worth it _

_ to show them everything you’ve kept inside _

_ don’t hide, don’t hide _

_ too shy to say, but I hope you stay _

_ don’t hide away, come out and play. _

_ \- Billie Eilish (come out and play) _

**we will call this place our home**

**the dirt in which our roots may grow**

It was raining the day he married Cas.

This is what Sam thinks as he stares out the window, coffee growing cold in his hands. This is the third night in a row he’s woken up before everyone else, and normally he’d be concerned with the way his hands tremble around his mug, but right now he’s just staring into the still dark, listening to the rain pitter patter against the window.

“Mom?”

Sam turns his head towards the voice, catching sight of Jack in the doorway, rubbing at his eyes. Since Jack has taken to sleeping, he’s slept late and like the dead. Sam wonders what woke him up; it’s been completely silent save for the rain.

“Mom?” Jack says again, a little louder this time, and Sam manages to find his voice, rasping Jack’s name as loudly as he can.

Jack shuffles over to him, taking a seat beside him on the steps and laying his head on Sam’s shoulder. He takes Sam’s hand and starts playing with his fingers, eyes only half open.

“Dad and Zod are still asleep,” he says softly. “Why’re you awake?”

Sam wants to shrug, but knows then Jack would move his head. So he forces himself to stay still, keeping his eyes trained out the window.

“I don’t know, Jacky. Why’re you awake?”

Jack does shrug, bending Sam’s pointer finger around his thumb.

“Had a nightmare. Zod’s funeral.”

Sam turns to his son in alarm. “Again?”

It’s been only three days since the last time Jack woke up crying, with Sam and Dean unable to calm him until Cas was there, letting Jack press his hand against his heartbeat to prove his parent was still alive.

Jack nods. “Yeah. Doesn’t matter though. I saw him and Dad, I know they’re fine.”

Sam nods distractedly, not quite believing it. He presses a kiss to the top of Jack’s head.

“If you’re sure.”

Jack hums, nuzzling his face into Sam’s neck and closing his eyes. His fingers go still against Sam’s skin.

“Yeah. Go to sleep, Mom.”

Sam nods, turning back to the window and resting his head against the glass. He knows he won’t, but he’ll let Jack believe otherwise.

“Sure, Jacky. Sweet dreams.”

**though the storms will push and pull**

**we will call this place our home**

There are times Sam asks himself how they ended up here. When it’s so early in the morning he feels like he’s breaking something if he makes even a single sound, when Cas rolls over from where he’s been tucked into Dean’s side and nuzzles into Sam’s chest, snoring against his skin. Sam wishes he wouldn’t think so much, but his mind is made in the shape of a downward spiral, one that can start at  _ I love you _ and end in  _ we’re all dead, dead, God, we’re all gonna fucking die. _

To be honest, Sam hates his brain sometimes.

**we'll tell our stories on these walls**

**every year measure how tall**

It’s half past nine when Cas stumbles into the kitchen, pressing himself against Sam’s back and startling him. He presses a kiss to Sam’s shoulder, keeping his fingers curled tight around Sam’s hip as he whispers in his ear.

“Mornin’, Sammy.”

Sam wonders when that started. Some years back, Cas started calling him Sammy along with Dean, and Sam hardly noticed, too caught up in whatever mess they’d gotten the world into that time. He wishes he’d been paying more attention, so he could’ve kissed him then. Told him he loved him.

“I love you,” Sam whispers now, since he lost his chance all that time ago, and Cas hums, pulling away to open the refrigerator, reaching for the carton of chocolate milk stuffed way in the back. Jack, asleep with his head in his arms at the table, jumps awake at the slam of the fridge door, rubbing blearily at his eyes.

“Zod?”

Cas turns and smiles softly at their son, kissing Sam’s cheek as he passes him by, heading for the seat next to Jack at the table. Jack smiles, reaching up to flatten Cas’ tangled bedhead. Sam watches them, scalding coffee at his lips, and smiles at the sight of Dean’s bite marks on Cas’ collarbones.

**and just like a work of art**

**we'll tell our stories on these walls**

Dean never eats breakfast. He never even comes to the kitchen, leaving Jack disappointed and lonely. Not a day goes by their son doesn’t doubt, at least once, Dean’s love for him. It saddens Sam to his bones, but he’s learned to be used to it. He’s too old for innocence.

Cas disappears around lunchtime, saying he’ll find Dean before the rest of their family arrives. They’re supposed to come for dinner, as they always do on Wednesday. Sam finds his downward spiral spinning once again.

_ Dean’s gone. He left you. Cas is leaving you too. They don’t love you. You’re a burden. You don’t love them enough. You don’t give them enough. You’re worthless. You’re a freak. _

_ You’re a freak. _

_ You’re a freak. _

_ You’re a - _

“Mom.”

Jack’s holding onto him now. Sam barely registers he’s curled himself into a ball against the cabinets before his knees buckle and he collapses, Jack’s arms unwinding from around him.

“Zod?” Jack shouts, voice panicked and high as Sam presses his hands hard against his ears, squeezing his eyes shut. He pushes his forehead against his knees, muttering Dean’s name to himself over and over again.

“Zod? Dad? Dad! Zod! Dad, Zod, Mom’s, I don’t know, I don’t know what to do -”

Dean comes barrelling in with a crash, Cas not far behind him. He rushes to Sam’s side, gently pulling Sam’s hands from his ears and holding them in his own as Cas gathers a sobbing Jack in his arms.

“Sammy,” Dean murmurs. “Sammy, it’s okay. We’re right here, I’m right here, Sammy -”

“Freak,” Sam gasps, his lungs constricting. He can’t breathe. “Freak, I’m a freak, I’m -”

“Perfect,” Cas answers. Sam glances at him, vision blurring with tears, and shakes his head. He wrenches his hands from Dean’s and fists them in his hair, tugging at the thin strands.

“No, no, Dee, Cassie, I’m -”

Dean’s eyes flick towards Cas, who nods and guides Jack from the room, whispering comforts in his ear and pressing kisses to his face. Dean turns to Sam once again, taking his little brother’s face in his hands.

“What’s going on, Sammy?” He says, real soft. “Why do you think you’re a freak?”

Sam can’t find the words. He opens his mouth three times but nothing comes out, so finally he just thrusts his wrists out in front of him, displaying the multi-colored braided bracelets wound around them.

“Dee,” he croaks, and Dean kisses his forehead, taking Sam’s wrists gently in his hands and thumbing each bracelet one by one.

He stops upon the last one, black and grey and white and purple strings woven together when they were seventeen years younger. It’s been around Sam’s wrist ever since, never taken off.

“You’re not a freak, Sammy,” Dean says, squeezing his wrist before dropping it and looking into Sam’s eyes. “Demon blood didn’t make you a freak. Psychic powers didn’t make you a freak. Not wanting sex doesn’t make you a freak.”

Sam shrugs, mumbling to himself again. His hair hangs down to hide his face. Dean sighs, moving to settle by Sam against the cabinets. He threads his fingers through Sam’s, something that’s always calmed his brother despite Dean’s distaste for it.

“Want me to stay with you?” He asks, and Sam nods. So Dean squeezes his hand, and he smiles, and he stays.

**let the years we're here be kind, be kind**

**let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide**

After an hour of sitting in silence on the hard kitchen tile, Cas comes back. He nods at Dean, kneeling beside them to whisper, “Would you make us some sandwiches? Charlie and Kevin are on their way.”

Dean nods, squeezing Sam’s hand one last time before pulling away, pressing a kiss to Cas’ chapped lips as he stands up and heads towards the fridge. Cas smiles at Sam, taking his husband’s hands in his and kissing his knuckles.

“I love you too, Sammy,” he says softly. “I forgot to answer you this morning. I’m sorry.”

Sam tries for a smile, feeling a little light-headed. His hands are shaking, he realizes.

“It’s okay. Where’s Jack?”

Cas smiles again, helping Sam gently to his feet.

“In his room.”

Sam knows what that means.

_ He’s worried about you. He loves you. He needs you. I know it’s not the first time he’s seen one of us have a panic attack, but it still terrifies him. He’s worried about you. _

_ He misses you. _

It’s an invitation. Sam takes it without hesitation.

**settle our bones like wood over time, over time**

**give us bread, give us salt, give us wine**

Jack’s room is covered wall to wall with pictures, the blue paint barely visible behind them. There’s pictures of Mary and John, and Bobby and Crowley, and Charlie and Kevin. Claire and Alex and Jody, Kelly, and lastly, on his bedside table, Sam and Dean and Cas.

Sam comes in quietly, not wanting to scare him. Jack spooks easily when worried, and he’s shaking even now, an hour after he left the kitchen. Sam feels guilt settle in his stomach, cold and familiar, but ignores it, stepping into the room and leaving the door open behind him.

“You okay?” He asks, hating how hoarse his voice is, and Jack nods, not looking at him. He’s sitting with his legs crossed on the bed, his hands folded in his lap with only his bedside lamp on. Something about it makes Sam’s heart constrict painfully.

“Sort of,” Jack answers. Sam sits down next to him, carefully slow. “Are you?”

Sam nods, unsure of what to say. He’s not usually the one who sits with Jack when one of them has a panic attack, so he’s in the dark here. He wonders if this is what Bobby felt like with him and Dean.

“Yeah,” he says. “You’ve seen all of us have panic attacks before. We’re always fine afterwards, it just takes some time to calm down.” He pauses, swallowing the guilt down when he sees Jack’s lip tremble. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Jack turns and wraps his arms around Sam’s neck, climbing onto his lap and hugging him close. He plays with the dead ends of Sam’s hair, mouth pressed into Sam’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he mumbles. “I get it. I just worry about you guys. You’re my family.”

Sam holds him tighter, closing his eyes. Jack rests his head on Sam’s shoulder.

“Love you, Mom.”

Sam pushes his face into Jack’s neck, kissing the skin there.

“I love you too, Jacky.”

**a little broken, a little new**

**we are the impact and the glue**

Charlie and Kevin hug them all wordlessly when they arrive, ruffling Jack’s hair as they go by. Dean takes them to the kitchen, where the three of them start preparing a bird of some kind, Cas following to fix any accidents that may occur.

Sam and Jack stay at the first table in the library, Sam reading a book and Jack threading string through beads. Jack’s arms are littered with homemade bracelets, a few badly sized ones hanging from a leather cord around his neck. In his t-shirt and jeans, he looks so at home here, and Sam peeks at him from behind his book every once in awhile.

He loves his son. It hits him, sometimes, just how much, just how lucky he is. Now, he smiles, and Jack glances up and meets his eyes as he’s grabbing a pink bead from the bowl underneath the lamp. He smiles too.

“Hi.”

Sam loves him.

“Hi.”

**capable more than we know**

**to call this fixer upper home**

Jody, Claire, and Alex are running late. Cas keeps telling them it’s fine, but still Jody keeps apologizing, until Cas gives up and hands the phone to Dean, who she hangs up on thirty seconds in. Sam smiles from the table, Kevin next to him with Charlie, the two of them already three beers in and getting steadily sleepier.

Crowley shows up, rather suspiciously, almost exactly when Bobby does, a comfortable smirk on his lips. He makes a sarcastic remark and Dean rolls his eyes, refuting it. Sam smiles wider.

“Whatcha smilin’ at, ya idjit?” Bobby teases, kissing Sam’s head and taking a seat beside him. Before Sam can answer, Jack comes bounding into the room, beaming like the sun and crashing into Bobby’s arms.

“Grampy!”

Bobby grumbles something about not being that old while the rest of them laugh. Crowley settles next to Bobby, slow and quiet, and as Jack drops into the chair across from his grandfather, Crowley’s fingers close around Bobby’s under the table.

Sam grins.

**with each year, our color fades**

**slowly, our paint chips away**

Jody, Claire, and Alex arrive just as table is set, bearing wine and cheerful banter. Sam wonders briefly how he could go from exhausted to panicked to relaxed to happy in less than a day, then reminds himself it doesn’t matter. Jack’s settled in between Claire and Alex, his bracelets rustling loudly whenever he moves, and Sam watches him, noting that the newest one is black and grey and white and purple.

“How’ve you boys been doin’?” Bobby asks. Crowley smiles down at his lap for some reason. Sam shrugs, Dean says, “Fine,” and Cas answers, “Sam doesn’t sleep anymore, Dean continues to take his frustrations out on the unused cars in the garage, Jack’s been having nightmares about my funeral and I haven’t left the bunker in two weeks.”

Silence falls as quickly as the laughter had started, and Sam suddenly finds himself wishing they’d given Cas more lessons in basic human interaction.

“I sleep,” he says. Cas gives him a look and Sam huffs out a laugh, hoping it sounds genuine. “I do, I sleep.”

“Well, you don’t sleep enough,” Bobby cuts in, forcing Sam to look him in the eyes. “You’ve got bags the size of Texas, kiddo.”

Dean snorts, turning towards Charlie with a joke when Bobby says, “And Dean, I thought I told you to call me if you ever had a problem.”

Dean’s laughter dies. He swallows the bite in his mouth and shakes his head.

“I don’t have any problems, Dad.”

Bobby raises an eyebrow. Dean pales.

“Don’t you  _ Dad _ me, ya idjit. Why didn’t you call me? Hell, why didn’t you at least tell your husband or your brother?” He sighs. Dean looks guiltily down at his plate and Jody blows out a breath, almost ready to intervene. Sam catches Jack’s eye across the table, mouthing,  _ It’s okay. _

“Goddamnit, boys,” Bobby says, exasperated. “You all are going out tomorrow. I don’t care for what, just leave the house. Get your mind off things, for pete’s sake.”

They nod, not meeting his disappointed eyes, and all mumble, “Yes, Bobby.”

Bobby takes a swig of his beer, Crowley watching him with amused eyes.

“That’s Dad to you, idjits.”

**but we will find the strength and the nerve it takes**

**to repaint and repaint and repaint every day**

After dinner, they disperse, little groups heading off in their own directions. The conversation has died down to almost nothing, silence yet again blanketing their fortress of a home.

Charlie goes with Dean to the garage, Bobby following. Dean had kissed Cas goodbye, ruffled Jack’s hair, and left with a shout that they were gonna take a look at fixing those cars he’s been taking his frustrations out on. Sam laughs to himself at that, thinking that things maybe aren’t so bad right now.

Kevin pores over books in the library, explaining old hunter tactics to Jody as Crowley sits beside them, slowly sipping the scotch in his hand. Jack takes Claire and Alex to his room, the three of them giggling uncontrollably as they stumble away, hanging off each other.

And then Sam is alone again. He sighs tiredly, gathering the plates and carrying them to the kitchen, setting them on the counter by the sink. He picks up the first one in the pile and turns on the water, grabbing a rag.

Cas appears suddenly beside him, one of his wings brushing Sam’s back as he drops the plate in surprise, glass shattering loudly on the floor. Sam hisses as he steps back on a piece, cutting his foot.

Cas frowns, concerned, and bends down to inspect the damage. Sam clutches his chest, pressed up against the fridge door as he tries to breathe. He can’t panic twice in one day. He shouldn’t be panicking at all.

With a gentle touch, Cas heals Sam’s foot, then stands and grasps Sam’s arms, holding him steady. His brow is furrowed in worry, his thumbs pressing hard into Sam’s biceps, and Sam closes his eyes, not wanting to see the sadness on his husband’s face.

“You are safe here, Sam,” Cas says quietly, touching a hand to Sam’s face. “You are safe here, sweetheart.”

Sam nods, a sharp jerk of the head, and Cas kisses him, holding him still and close. Wrapped in his angel’s wings, Sam barely registers they’re moving before Cas is guiding him towards the giant king bed the three of them share. He draws the covers over Sam, brushing his hair back from his face and kissing his forehead.

Pulling back, he turns Dean’s bedside lamp on, and the room is bathed in golden light. Cas smiles, and Sam closes his eyes at the reassuring sight.

“Sleep, Sammy,” Cas says, and Sam does.

**let the years we're here be kind, be kind**

**let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide**

Sam wakes up to sunshine pouring through the window. There’s the familiar weight and warmth of Cas beside him, and Dean singing  _ Living On A Prayer  _ in the shower. Jack’s laughter floats through the door from down the hall and soon he’s barrelling through the door, jumping onto the bed beside them.

“Mom! Zod! Uncle Crowley says he’ll take us to Paris! C’mon, c’mon, up, up!”

Sam closes his eyes again, fighting a smile as he rolls over. Cas sits up, blinking blearily as Jack runs into the bathroom to tell Dean, resulting in a screech that Dean will definitely deny having been responsible for later.

“We’re going where now?”

Sam sighs, rubbing his eyes as he sits up. He yawns, drawing his knees to his chest and smiling as Jack comes running out of the bathroom and into the hall again, laughter fading as he moves farther and farther away.

“Paris, I guess?” Sam answers, feeling lighter than he has in days. He kisses Cas’ cheek, resting his head on his shoulder and brushing his fingers over the lovebites on Cas’ neck from two nights ago, reveling in the way Cas shivers at his touch. “You gonna join Dean in there?”

Cas shakes his head.

“No. The others are surely waiting.”

Sam nods, pressing a parting kiss to Cas’ bare shoulder as he pulls away, standing up and heading for the dresser, pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He zips up one of Dean’s hoodies over it and pulls on his boots, heading into the main room, where the rest of their family waits.

Crowley’s standing next to Bobby’s chair, a hand on Sam’s father’s shoulder. Charlie’s asleep on Kevin’s shoulder, having never bothered to brush her hair. Claire’s complaining loudly about how early it is and Alex’s rolling her eyes, Jody and Jack caught in deep conversation next to them.

Sam smiles. He’s been doing a lot of that lately.

Crowley looks up and sees him in the doorway, offering a soft smile. Jack follows his uncle’s eyes, grinning when he sees Sam and running towards him, wrapping Sam in his arms.

“Mornin’, Mom.”

Sam kisses his son’s head, wondering if he’ll ever get tired of hearing that.

**settle our bones like wood over time, over time**

**give us bread, give us salt, give us wine**

In Paris, they start off all together, Jack holding tight to Sam’s hand and pointing at everything around them in excitement. Cas’ fingers are tangled in Dean’s, his face tired, and Sam sends him a small smile, letting him know it’s okay.

As time goes on, they start to split up, heading in separate directions. Charlie and Kevin disappear into an antique store, and Jody takes Claire and Alex for ice cream after Claire punches a boy in the nose for spitting a slur at Dean and Cas. Crowley and Bobby end up out on the pier, legs dangling over the edge as they watch the boats go by.

Jack himself wants to go to the Louvre, dragging Sam through flocks of pigeons in an effort to get there faster. Cas offers to take him, leaving Sam and Dean to explore some of the local bars, but Sam refuses, wanting to spend any time with his son he can.

Jack insists they buy him a sketchbook, so he can draw, and though he soon grows bored of it, instead breezing through room after room looking for every painting of angels he can find, Cas keeps the sketchbook open, drawing the statues and vases on his own. Dean stays beside him, holding his hand still, and Sam feels a pang of pride for his brother - how far he’s come from only kissing Cas in sight of Sam.

Sam looks down at his bracelets, edges fraying, and smiles.

**let the years we're here be kind, be kind**

**let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide**

Jack asks if they’ll be meeting up with the others for dinner, and Sam shrugs. Cas is holding his hand now, Dean on his other side. It’s not often the three of them can walk down a street like this, truthful and open, each holding on to Cas because they want to and not because they’re running from danger.

Kevin calls them and asks if they can stay at least long enough to watch the sunset. Sam feels anxious, his skin itching to be safe inside, but he pushes it away and agrees, all of them meeting up once again by the water, settling on the stone.

Sam is tired. He wants to sleep, to be back in the quiet comfort of their home, but he doesn’t want to ruin anyone else’s night. And Jack is laughing, so loud and free out here in the wind, held under Dean’s arm while Cas watches them with a smile.

Sam doesn’t want to end this. He doesn’t want to give in.

**settle our bones like wood over time, over time**

**give us bread, give us salt, give us wine**

**give us bread, give us salt, give us wine**

They get home just after midnight, exhausted and a little drunk. Charlie throws her arms around Sam’s neck in goodbye, Jody enveloping Dean in a hug behind them, and even Crowley offers Cas a pat on the back while Claire, Jack, and Alex tumble to the floor in a pile of laughter and warmth.

When Bobby hugs him, Sam feels his eyes start to tear up and closes them tight, desperate to keep himself from crying. Not here, not in front of them, not for no reason.

He holds it together, careful not to put any pressure on the cracks in his facade. Charlie and Kevin leave with their arms around each other, Jody with Claire and Alex trailing behind her, and Bobby with Crowley’s hand wrapped around his.

The door slams. Sam jumps, the tears starting up again, and as Cas reaches for him he bolts, headed for the nearest bathroom he can lock himself in.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

**smaller than dust on this map**

**lies the greatest thing we have**

Dean’s banging on the door before Sam can even finish closing it, pushing it open with a shout of Sam’s name and dropping to the floor next to his terrified baby brother. Sam curls himself in a ball in the corner, unable to stop shaking even as Dean wraps himself around him, whispering sweet nothings into Sam’s ear.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re fine, we’re home, we’re safe. We’re alive.”

Sam just shakes his head, muttering.

“No, Dee, I just, I don’t, why am I, Dee -”

Dean just kisses his head, holding him tight to him even as Sam struggles to push him away. In the doorway, Cas is watching them, a sad look in his eyes.

“Cassie,” Sam finally manages to gasp. “Cassie, please -”

Cas is beside him in an instant, wrapping his wings around them both. Dean tries to back away but Sam just pulls him closer, burying his face in his brother’s shoulder and threading his fingers through their angel’s.

“Why am I crying?” He whimpers, almost hysterical. He’s so tired. “Why am I crying, Cassie?”

Over his head, Cas and Dean share a glance.

“I don’t know, sweetheart.”

Sam sobs, then covers his mouth and tries to push himself further back in the corner, upset that he’s upset.

“Please go away,” he rasps. “Please leave me alone.”

Dean shakes his head.

“You’re stuck with us, Sammy.”

Sam buries his head in his arms, rocking back and forth until the voices shut up and all he can feel is Dean’s hands on his back and Cas’ lips on his forehead.

**the dirt in which our roots may grow**

**and the right to call it home**

Jack takes longer to get to bed than usual, hovering around Sam like a nervous butterfly.

“Are you okay, Mom?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Jacky.”

When they finally manage to coax him into bed, he insists they all stay with him until he’s asleep. They tell him he’s safe from the monsters, and he tells them he knows.

“Are we gonna be alright?” Jack asks as Dean turns off his bedside lamp. His parents share a glance, Sam from the doorway and Cas from the rocking chair, and Dean runs his fingers through Jack’s hair, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek.

“Of course, buddy,” he answers. “Aren’t we always?”

Sam wants to refute it, but in the end they always are alright, just maybe not okay. And Sam supposes they’ve never really been okay, so alright will have to do.

  
  
  


_ don’t matter where we go _

_ you’ll never be alone _

_ anywhere beside you _

_ is the place that I’ll call home. _

_ \- Kacey Musgraves (My House) _


	2. Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics from "West" by Sleeping At Last
> 
> PLAYLIST:  
> Through The Dark (One Direction)  
> West (Sleeping At Last)  
> Team (Noah Cyrus, MAX)  
> Not What I Meant (Dodie, Lewis Watson)  
> You And I (Johnnyswim)  
> Vulnerable (Selena Gomez)  
> you were good to me (Jeremy Zucker, Chelsea Cutler)

_ oh, I will carry you over fire and water for your love _

_ and I will hold you closer, hope your heart is strong enough _

_ when the night is coming down on you, we will find a way _

_ through the dark. _

_ \- One Direction (Through The Dark) _

**maps stretched out**

**too many miles to count**

Dean doesn’t remember much about the day he married Cas. They’ve been in love for so long that even the day they admitted it is a blur now, just another photograph in the collage that makes up his fucked-up life.

There’s no wedding album for him to look through, either. They’ve been married for over a decade now, and back when they were running from the monsters there was no time for such things. He hadn’t even gotten down on one knee with a ring or anything, they’d just been running from a hellhound and the question had slipped out.

Of course, Cas hadn’t hesitated to say yes. It’s been a long and rocky road to get where they are now, but Dean has never had any doubts about whether Cas truly wants to be with him. It’s Sam who struggles most with that.

“Dad?” Jack calls from the garage doorway. Dean pushes himself out from under the car, smiling when Jack does. “Dinner’s ready. Mom sent me to come and get you.”

Dean nods.

“I’ll be out in a minute, kid.”

Jack grins, turning to head back the way he came. He leaves the door open behind him, and as Dean is putting his tools back in their box, he wonders how they ever managed to raise a kid who isn’t afraid of leaving things unlocked.

**let's just say we're inches apart**

**even closer at heart**

**and we'll be just fine**

Dinner is quiet.

It unsettles Dean, down to his bones, how quiet it is. Sam’s smiling, so there’s that, but Cas is still watching him with worried eyes. Jack is fingering his bracelets nervously, not looking up at them once.

Dean wonders what happened in that minute.

**another pin pushed in**

**to remind us where we've been**

Sam takes Jack to bed after dinner, their son having almost fallen asleep on his shoulder. Dean remembers the days they collapsed into motel beds at midnight and called it turning in early. Now, it’s not even nine.

The dishes are left on the table, smeared with the leftovers of mac’n’cheese. Cas picks them up one by one, carrying them to the sink in silence. As he turns on the sink and rolls up his sleeves, Dean heads for the door, tired himself.

“Aren’t you going to ask what happened?”

Dean turns back towards his husband. Cas hasn’t moved save for picking up a new plate from the pile, his back to Dean still. Dean purses his lips.

“What happened?”

Cas doesn’t turn around, leaving Dean the choice to come closer or run.

“Jack is trying to tell us something,” he answers calmly. “He made two new bracelets today. One of them is a pattern of black, grey, white, and purple. The other is the same, except the purple has been replaced with green.”

Dean chooses to come closer.

“He’s trying to… he’s asexual? Like Sam?”

Cas nods. He doesn’t seem surprised when Dean wraps his arms around him, kissing the back of his neck.

“I believe that’s why he keeps trying to talk to Sam alone,” Cas says, picking up another plate. “But Sam’s tired, Dean. Exhausted.”

Dean feels his brow furrow. He tightens his hold around Cas’ waist, kissing his shoulder this time.

“Why?”

Cas pauses. His hands are shaking around the plate he’s holding, Dean notices, and gently tries to pry it from his hands. Cas just holds on tighter.

“He doesn’t sleep, Dean. He panics almost every day.” Cas looks down at the sink, biting his lip. “I don’t know why. He won’t tell me.”

Dean sighs. He pulls back from Cas, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll do the rest of the dishes. Why don’t you try and find him?”

Cas shakes his head, hunched over the sink. He hasn’t picked up another plate, instead standing with his hands on the counter, arms straight and stiff.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me, Dean. He’s -”

Cas cuts himself off, clenching his jaw. He turns his head away from Dean, but not fast enough so Dean doesn’t see the tears in his eyes. He takes a deep breath, then looks up at Dean again, face blank.

“He doesn’t trust me.”

Dean scoffs.

“Of course he does, Cas. He always has.”

Cas shakes his head, reaching for another plate. His face is tight, eyes fiery.

“Not with whatever this is, he doesn’t. My own husband -”

He cuts himself off again, dropping the dish he’s holding in the sink and burying his face in his hands. He’s trembling all over. Dean reaches out for him, but Cas pushes him away, tremors wracking his body.

“I can’t help him, Dean,” he rasps. “I can’t help him. God knows I’ve tried.”

Dean rests a hand on Cas’ back, wrapping an arm around him. He squeezes his shoulder.

“He knows you’re trying, Cassie,” Dean murmurs, pressing his forehead to Cas’ back. “I know. We know. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Cas croaks. “I swore to protect you three, and I - I’m failing. Again. I can’t let you down again -”

“Hey,” Dean interrupts, touching Cas’ face and forcing him to look at him. “Hey, you aren’t letting anyone down. You’re not failing.”

Cas sighs, tear tracks on his cheeks glistening. He blinks, sniffing, and another tear falls. Dean wipes it away with his thumb.

“Sure.”

He says it with such disbelief, as if Dean is out of his mind. Dean just takes Cas’ hand, pulling him away from the stack of plates. He knows when a battle is lost.

“C’mon,” he says, feeling all their sadness come down on his shoulders. “C’mon, let’s go to bed. The dishes can wait.”

**and every mile adds up**

**and leaves a mark on us**

Dean doesn’t know when he became the early bird in this household.

Sam is still asleep, hanging half off the bed, presumably to make room for Cas, who’s splayed out like a starfish in the middle. Dean smiles to himself, sitting up and sliding his feet into his slippers, dragging a hand down his face.

God, he’s tired.

He shuffles into the kitchen, making himself a cup of coffee. He leaves mugs out for Sam and Cas too, for when they’re ready. He wonders if Jack is up yet.

He gets his answer when he wanders into the library, where Jack sits at the middle table, slipping beads onto a string even this early in the morning. It doesn’t look like he’s slept much, if the bags under his eyes and pile of bracelets next to him are anything to go by.

Dean takes a seat across from his son, not surprised when Jack doesn’t even glance his way.

“Why’re you up so early, Jacky?”

Jack shrugs, pulling a red bead from the bowl and threading the string through it. The jar of lettered beads is nearly empty, Dean realizes, and makes a note to drive into town and buy some later.

“Nightmares again?”

Jack stills. After a moment he starts moving again, grabbing a blue bead this time.

“You were chasing me,” he says quietly. “It was cold and dark, and you were running after me through the woods. I tried to fly but my wings were gone, so I started yelling for Mom and Zod. They wouldn’t answer. Something told me they were dead. That they’d died a long time ago.”

Dean looks down at his coffee. These kind of talks have never been his specialty. It’s always been Cas who stays up with Jack. Never Sam, and certainly never Dean.

“Well, they’re upstairs. Safe and sound, sleeping like the -”

He closes his mouth. Jack looks up, raising an eyebrow.

“Like the dead?” He finishes, something almost like amusement in his eyes, and Dean huffs out a laugh, nodding.

“Yeah. Not my best choice of words.”

Jack shrugs, the momentary lightness fading. He reaches for a yellow bead now, accidentally taking a green instead. Dean wonders how upset he’ll be when he notices.

“You were so much faster than me,” Jack whispers. “You almost caught me so many times. I was so scared.”

Dean hates this. He hates that this is his fault, that Jack’s dream is closer to memory than any of them ever wanted.

“I’m sorry -”

“I kept screaming that I was Jack,” his son interrupts, somehow even quieter. “That I was your son, that you loved me. You said -”

He swallows, tying off the bracelet and shoving it weakly towards the pile. He wraps his arms around himself, looking down at his lap.

“You said you didn’t have a son.”

Dean can feel the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He closes them, covering his face with his hands. His coffee’s probably gone cold by now.

“That wasn’t me,” he tries, but he knows it’s the wrong thing to say. Jack shrugs, playing with one of the bracelets on his wrists.

“It’s okay,” he says. But it’s not.

Dean knows it’s not.

**and sometimes our compass breaks**

**and our steady true north fades**

**we'll be just fine**

Sam doesn’t wake up until nine, and as soon as he’s stepped into the library he’s gone again, Jack taking his hand and pulling him out of the room. Cas, wearing a pair of Dean’s pajama pants and one of Sam’s hoodies, stands in the doorway with his bedhead, rubbing at his eyes and holding the mug Dean left for him.

“What was it this time?” Cas asks, sitting down beside Dean. Dean takes his husband’s hand, playing with Cas’ wedding rings. The Enochian symbols carved into them are somehow still there, he notices with wonder.

“Me,” Dean says, voice hollow. “Me trying to… you know.”

Cas nods, leaning his head on Dean’s shoulder. It must be uncomfortable, with the armrest digging into his side, but Dean doubts he’ll let that stop him.

“It wasn’t you,” he says, and Dean closes his eyes, turning to kiss Cas’ head. How is it wrong when he says it, but sounds so true when Cas does?

“It could’ve been,” he protests, unable to let it go. “You know what I was like before.”

Cas hums. Dean kisses his head again, wondering if this how Sam feels sometimes. At a loss, helpless, stupid.

Alone in a crowded room.

**we'll be just fine**

**we'll be just fine**

“You and Jack seem pretty close lately.”

Sam startles, looking up from the book he’s reading. Dean is careful to keep his face neutral, not wanting to scare his baby brother away.

“He’s our kid, Dean,” Sam says, as if the way they disappear alone together all the time is normal. “Of course we’re close. I’m his -” He pauses, trying to find the right word. “I’m his Mom.”

Dean pretends not to notice how Sam’s face turns pink at the phrase, his lips quirking up at the corners. He nods, putting his beer down on the table.

“I know,” he tries again. “It’s just - he’s so quiet these days. Is he okay?”

_ Are you okay? _

Sam shrugs, huffing out a laugh. His fingers absentmindedly curl around his wrist and start to fidget with the frayed edges of his bracelets.

“He’s fine, Dean,” he answers. “We’re both fine. Just - figuring things out, y’know?”

Dean nods again, slower this time. He picks up his beer and takes a swig, turning away.

“I know.” A photograph of the two of them with Kevin hangs crookedly on the wall. “But I worry about you.”

His voice lowers to a whisper. Sam won’t look at him.

“You have attacks almost every day, Sammy,” he says. “Cas… we can’t help you if you won’t tell us what’s wrong.”

Sam shrugs, turning back to his book. Dean doesn’t push him.

**we'll be just fine**

**I know that we will**

**I just know we will**

That night, when the lights have all been turned out and it’s starting to rain, Dean watches Cas sleep. Cas’ got his arm around Sam, who’s resting his head on Cas’ chest, tracing shapes onto his skin.

“Sometimes,” Sam starts, then pauses. “Sometimes I guess I’ve just forgotten why we love each other.”

Dean shuts his eyes. Despite the tears begging to fall, he keeps them resolutely closed, hoping Sam doesn’t hear his breath catch in his throat.

**time moves slow**

**when half of your heart has yet to come home**

Dean gives up on sleeping at three. He doesn’t bother putting on his slippers, wandering into the kitchen barefoot. The thought crosses his mind that he misses Charlie, but he shoves it away, focusing his attention on stirring sugar into his coffee.

As he makes his way towards the library, he hears shuffling, and sees Sam emerge from their bedroom, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He doesn’t see Dean, who watches his brother settle on the stairs by the window, staring out into the dark.

Dean stands there for a moment, wondering how many times this happens. How often Sam gets up in the middle of the night and heads for the stairs, settling in to watch the rain.

The sound of their bedroom door creaking on its hinges diverts Dean’s attention from his brother to Cas, still beautiful in rumpled, stained pajamas.

Cas smiles at him, leaning up to kiss Dean softly. Without a word, he pulls away and heads towards Sam, sitting beside him on the steps and taking his hand. Dean sees Sam jump in surprise, then smile, pressing his forehead against Cas’ and whispering something to him.

Dean can’t hear it. He’s too busy listening to his heart, racing in his chest.

**every minute's adding up**

**and leaving a mark on us**

Jack is waiting for him in the library. Dean is glad that kid doesn’t actually need sleep, because if he did they’d probably all fall apart.

“Another nightmare?” He asks, sitting down across from his son, and Jack nods, tying off another bracelet. He slips it onto his wrist and immediately starts on another one, grabbing green string and three white and purple beads.

“I hope -” Dean begins, then stops. “I hope it wasn’t too bad.”

_ I hope it wasn’t me. _

Jack shrugs, taking a pink bead from the bowl.

“No. Zod’s funeral. Then Mom panicking. I don’t know. Just normal stuff.”

Dean hates this. Hates that nightmares about his parents being tortured is “normal stuff” to Jack, hates that his kid sometimes thinks Dean hates him, hates that none of them can sleep.

“I’m sorry, Jacky.”

Dean apologizes a lot these days. Sometimes he wonders why he never did before.

Jack shrugs again. He picks up a blue bead.

“It’s okay.”

Dean sighs.

“It’s not.”

Jack shrugs for a third time, tying off the bracelet. He reaches for Dean’s arm, holding his hand gently in his as he slips the bracelet onto Dean’s wrist, a mess of clashing colors and the word  _ DAD _ in letter beads facing towards the sky.

“It is, Dad. I’m used to it.”

Dean has lost his voice, fingers tightening around his son’s. He wonders if he’ll ever get around to actually drinking the coffee he makes every morning.

“You shouldn’t have to be, Jacky. This is my fault.”

Jack shakes his head, letting go to start on another bracelet.

“Nothing’s your fault, Dad,” he says. “It’s not our fault we’re all messed up.”

**I can't get you out of my mind**

**I can't get you out of my mind**

“I told you he trusts you.”

The words are quiet, an eye in the midst of their hurricane. Cas hums, a soft smile on his face as he brushes his fingers through Sam’s hair. Sam’s asleep for the first time in days, his head on Cas’ thigh, and Dean has never loved his brother more.

Cas rests his head on Dean’s shoulder, threading his fingers through his husband’s. Dean wonders if he should turn the light off.

“We both trust you,” he says, unsure of how else to continue but with the truth. Cas closes his eyes.

“I love you,” he answers, as if that makes sense. Dean wonders if it ever has.

“I know.”

He turns the light off.

**I can't get you out of my mind**

**I solemnly swear**

**I swear that i'll never try**

Like every bad day, it starts out as a good one.

Jack’s tapping beats out on the table and grinning, biting his lip whenever he catches one of them smiling at him. Cas is putting too much ice in their drinks and Sam is flipping the pancakes on the stove while Dean finally takes a sip of his coffee, hissing when the hot liquid burns his tongue.

Dean notes, almost absentmindedly, that they each have a new bracelet adorning their wrist.

_ MOM. _

_ ZOD. _

Sam’s laugh startles him out of his haze and he jerks in surprise, knocking his mug to the ground where it shatters.

Loudly.

Silence falls like ice over them, Cas’ hands already reaching for Sam as he presses himself back against the wall, hands over his ears. Dean curses under his breath, rushing to shield Jack from the sight of Sam having a panic attack, not that he hasn’t seen all of them have one at some point.

“Shit!” He growls, pulling Jack into his room. As they settle on Jack’s bed, the sound of clattering dishes as Sam desperately flails for something to hold onto grows fainter, and Jack’s scared cries grow louder. Dean holds his son tightly to him, pressing a lingering kiss to his head and murmuring comforts in his ear.

“Fuck,” he whispers, feeling his own eyes tear up, and they stay there together, just parent and child until the storm stops and it’s quiet, horribly quiet once again.

**we'll be just fine**

**we'll be just fine**

“Talk to me.”

Dean doesn’t stop slamming his hammer into the side of the car he’s just fixed, leaving dent after dent after dent. He knows Sam won’t panic if he’s expecting the noise, though the thought still makes him pause.

“Dean,” Sam tries again. When Dean smashes a headlight, he sighs. “Dee.”

Dean snarls, hitting the car door one last time before hurling the hammer to the side, ignoring the loud clang that follows, though Sam winces.

“What do you want me to say, Sam? That I’m not the reason? That it’s not my fault? That  _ that _ -” He gestures towards the hallway that leads to the kitchen. “Wasn’t because of me?”

Sam glances to the side, then back at him, shrugging.

“Well, yeah.”

Dean laughs. It’s cold and humorless, almost sinister in its undertones. He turns back to the car and leans against it, fists curled against the car’s hood.

“Well, I’m not gonna say that, Sammy. I can’t -” He swallows. “I’m not gonna lie just because you think it’ll make me feel better.”

Sam sighs. “It’s not your fault, Dean.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is!”

He whirls back around, teeth gritted like an animal’s. Sam looks at him sadly.

“Talk to me.”

Dean shakes his head, laughing again. He can feel his eyes starting to water, but he refuses to cry. Not in front of someone. Not in front of Sam.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, Dee,” Sam says, almost desperate now. “You asked me to talk to you. I’m doing that, aren’t I?” He tries for a smile. “If I can talk then so can you.”

Dean swallows down the sob building in his throat, crossing his arms over his chest and turning back towards the car.

“I can’t. I…”

Sam shakes his head, laughing almost hysterically. He runs his hand through his hair, exasperated.

“Yes, you can, Dean! My problems are not your fault any more than yours are mine. I know that. I get it, it’s hard to believe sometimes, but we are  _ not each other’s problems _ , Dean. We are each other’s solutions.”

Dean snorts, turning back around.

“Where’d you get that, an emotional support pamphlet?”

Sam purses his lips, looking down and away from Dean. His fingers curl into frustrated fists by his sides.

“No. I panic sometimes, Dean, I know. More than usual lately. But that is  _ not your fault _ . It’s because something in my brain is  _ fucked up _ , and yeah, it sucks, but it sucks less with you. And with Cas, and with Jack. With our  _ family _ .”

It’s no use even closing his eyes. Tears slip down his cheeks like streams in May.

Sam steps closer, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“We’re together, Dee,” he whispers, bending down to kiss Dean’s head. “After everything, after Lucifer and Amara and fucking  _ dying _ , we ended up alive and together. That’s gotta count for something.”

Dean turns and wraps his arms around his brother’s waist, Sam’s own coming up around his shoulders almost immediately. Dean realizes, suddenly, that he’d forgotten what hugging Sam feels like.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says quietly, voice muffled by Sam’s shirt. Sam laughs, sounding a little choked up, and nods, pressing his mouth to the top of Dean’s head.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I love you too.”

**we'll be just fine**

**I know that we will**

Around ten, Cas and Sam head upstairs for bed, leaving with kisses to Jack’s cheeks. As they pass Dean, sitting on the stairs, they both smile.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Sam says, squeezing his shoulder. Cas leans down and kisses Dean’s forehead, murmuring in his ear.

“Goodnight, darling.”

Dean doesn’t answer. They disappear with their hands clasped together, Cas leaning into Sam’s side.

“You and Zod are in love, right?”

Dean doesn’t look at Jack, still sitting at the table, finishing up a pink and purple bracelet.

“Yes.”

“And Zod and Mom are in love?”

Outside, it’s started to rain. Dean remembers, with a sudden clarity, that there once was a time that he and Cas and Sam would be out there, dancing underneath the crying sky.

He wonders where those days have gone.

“Yes.”

Jack hums, tying off the bracelet and slipping it onto his wrist. He sits beside Dean on the steps, not seeming to mind when Dean doesn’t even glance his way. He lays his head on Dean’s shoulder, looping his arm through his parent’s.

“The angels talk about you sometimes,” he says quietly. “They’re angry with Zod, for betraying Heaven. They’re angry with you and Mom, for being his reason. And they’re angry with me, for existing.”

Dean feels Jack’s hand close around his own. He squeezes, once.

“You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Jack shrugs, nudging Dean’s pointer finger up and down.

“I know,” he says. “I know they’re wrong. They just… they don’t understand. They don’t know what love is.”

Dean hums, too tired to really think it through. Jack closes his eyes.

“Can you tell me about love?” He asks. “What does it feel like?”

The rain has picked up pace, pounding softly on the window. Flashes of memory run through Dean’s head; him and Cas kissing in a parking lot, Sam laughing into Cas’ neck, the two of them holding Cas’ hands as he lay dying in a barn, whispering that he loved them.

“I can’t answer that, Jacky,” he murmurs. “It’s different for everyone.”

Jack sits up, hands folded in his lap. Absentmindedly, he starts picking at the black, grey, white and purple bracelet on his left wrist.

“Then why do you love each other?” He asks, sounding almost sad. “If you can’t even tell me what it feels like? Why do you stay here, day after day, with no one else?”

Dean closes his eyes.

“Jacky.”

He says it softly, a last plea for silence, but Jack just shakes his head, tears gathering in his eyes.

“Why do you love each other, Dad? Why, after everything?”

“I don’t know, Jacky,” he says, finally turning to look his son in the eyes. “I just know that we do.”

**we'll be just fine**

**we'll be just fine**

They always seem to change in the rain.

The first time he and Cas kissed, it was pouring outside, and Sam was crying in the car, clutching his hair in fistfuls while he tried desperately to breathe. The night Cas finally proposed to Sam, when he and Dean had been engaged for a year, thunder was rumbling and lightning was cracking, and for once in their lives the tears on Sam’s face were happy, his eyes shining as he kissed Cas until neither of them could speak.

And now, as the rain pounds against the windows, Jack is crying, cradled in Dean’s arms as he tries to quiet him, knowing Sam and Cas will wake up soon if he doesn’t.

“Please, Jacky,” he whispers. “Please, Jacky, we’re gonna be alright -”

“You always say that,” Jack gasps, throat clogged with tears. “You always say that, and then we die. You always say that, and then we lose. You always say that, and then we’re not alright.”

Dean can’t lie to him, so he doesn’t answer, pressing a kiss to the top of Jack’s head. Jack keeps on crying, Sam and Cas appearing in the doorway, running to their side and wrapping their own arms around Jack.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” Sam mumbles against Jack’s shoulder. Jack shakes his head, the sobs starting to lessen even as his tears keep falling.

“You’re always here,” he cries. “You’re always here, you’re always here, you’re always here…”

“Jacky,” Cas tries, brushing his fingers through Jack’s hair, and Jack screams, burying his face in Dean’s chest.

“You’re always dead,” he rasps. “You’re always dead, you always die. We always die.”

Sam’s lip trembles and Cas buries his face in his hands. Dean wonders if this is what love is supposed to feel like.

**it's a matter of time**

**til our compass stands still**

**til our compass stands still**

Come morning, they’ll pretend it never happened. Sam will try to acknowledge it, and Cas will snap at him, and Sam will shut up. Dean will lock himself in the garage and bang his hammer against the car he’s just fixed, and Jack will make a hundred bracelets and then leave them on the table, saying he doesn’t want them.

Dean doesn’t remember what the sun looks like. He doesn’t remember how the rain felt against his skin. He doesn’t remember why he gave himself up to love in the first place.

When he wakes up, he wanders into the kitchen and finds music playing softly through Sam’s shitty phone speakers. Cas is spinning Sam around, smiling when Sam crashes back into him, laughing. When the song ends, they share a kiss, Sam smiling too wide against Cas’ mouth. From the table, Jack watches them with a grin, the bags under his eyes the only evidence of last night ever happening.

Dean doesn’t even have time to step inside before Sam is taking his hand, dragging him into the weird sort of jig they’re doing now, Cas kissing Dean’s lips with a smile. Sam pulls Jack up from his seat to join them, the four of them laughing until the music fades, and even a little while after.

“I love you,” Dean says, and everyone freezes.

Then Sam’s lips slowly stretch into a smile, and Cas takes his hand, eyes twinkling. Jack presses himself into Dean’s side, letting Dean kiss his head.

“Yeah, Dad,” he says, grinning. “Yeah, we know.”

Dean closes his eyes as they envelope him in their arms, breathing in their warmth. He kisses the shell of Cas’ ear, and he kisses Sam’s forehead, and he kisses Jack’s cheek. He pulls them all closer, and he thinks,  _ This is alright. We are alright. _

“We love you too,” Jack whispers. Dean smiles.

He doesn’t remember much these days, but he knows he’ll remember this.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_ still no matter where I go, _

_ at the end of every road, _

_ you were good to me _

_ I know it’s easier to run _

_ after everything I’ve done _

_ and I’m so used to letting go _

_ but I don’t wanna be alone _

_ and now I’m closing every door _

_ cause I’m sick of wanting more _

_ swear I’m different than before _

_ I won’t hurt you anymore _

_ you were good to me. _

_ \- Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler (you were good to me) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3


	3. Cas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics from "Two" by Sleeping At Last (basically the Wincestiel theme song in my opinion)
> 
> PLAYLIST:  
> Kiss Me (Ed Sheeran)  
> Two (Sleeping At Last)  
> And If My Heart Should Somehow Stop (James Vincent McMorrow)  
> I Will Spend My Whole Life Loving You (Kina Grannis, Imaginary Future)  
> I Found (Amber Run)  
> Brave Enough (Lindsey Stirling, Christina Perri)  
> The Only Exception (Paramore)  
> This Is Home (Cavetown)  
> When She Loved Me (Sarah McLachlan)  
> Fresh Roses (Juke Ross)

_ your heart’s against my chest _

_ your lips pressed to my neck _

_ I’m falling for your eyes _

_ but they don’t know me yet _

_ and with this feeling I forget _

_ I’m in love now _

_ kiss me like you wanna be loved _

_ you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved _

_ this feels like falling in love _

_ falling in love, falling in love. _

_ \- Ed Sheeran (Kiss Me) _

**sweetheart, you look a little tired**

**when did you last eat**

Cas remembers everything about the day he married Sam and Dean Winchester, no matter how small the detail.

He’s never regretted it. It’s been over ten years, and still he’s blown away every day by how lucky he is, how overwhelming their love has become. Even in the wake of all their tragedy, Castiel has loved the Winchester brothers, and he knows he’ll love them to their graves. He will love them as ghosts, as monsters, and as demons. He will love them when the sun burns out.

He knows Jack is angry. He knows their son is scared and worried, about himself and about them and about himself and them, but he also knows that in the end, Jack will be alright. It’s Sam and Dean Cas worries about.

He couldn’t have betrayed Heaven for anyone else, and yet.

He prays, still, when Sam doesn’t sleep. When Dean bruises his knuckles. When Jack screams.

Castiel prays, and he curses himself for his sins.

**come in and make yourself right at home**

**stay as long as you need**

Lately, the angels have been getting louder.

Cas’ wings are broken and nearly bare. They ache. It’s pure agony to move them, but he still unfurls them sometimes. To pretend he’s still more than just the Winchesters’ angel, that he’s an angel of the Lord. He wishes it were still true.

He still loves them. He will always love them, Sam and Dean. It is an inevitable thing, the way their smiles set his heart on fire. In another world, he thinks he would’ve loved them the same. In any reality, he would love them the same.

Still, the angels scream. Day in and day out, they torment him with their accusations.

_ Liar. Whore. Traitor. _

Castiel is a myth. A storybook villain the young angels are taught to fear, to reject. Castiel, angel of the Lord, is today’s Lucifer.

Cas, angel of the Winchesters, is almost human, staring down at the rings on his left hand like they’ve been burnt there.

Like they’re scars.

**tell me, is something wrong**

**if something's wrong, you can count on me**

It’s raining again. Sam has opened up all the windows, letting wind blow through. He’s smiling, looking younger than he has in years.

Cas sits down on the floor behind him, pulling Sam towards him. Sam cranes his neck, looking up at Cas as he leans back into his chest. Cas kisses his forehead.

“It was raining the day I married you, remember?” He murmurs. “And your hair was sticking to your face and you were laughing…”

Sam hums, placing his hands over Cas’ on his waist and threading their fingers together.

“You were so much happier then,” Cas whispers. “What happened, sweetheart?”

Sam shrugs, closing his eyes when Cas kisses his cheek.

“Life, I guess.”

Cas hums, closing his own eyes. Sam starts mumbling the lyrics to some song he and Dean call a classic, one Cas doesn’t know very well.

“What’s that song again?” He asks. Sam smiles, kissing Cas’ jaw.

“ _ Can’t Help Falling In Love With You _ ,” he answers. “Elvis Presley, 1961.”

He starts singing again, quieter now. The rain keeps falling, and so does Cas.

**you know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat**

**it's okay if you can't find the words**

Cas doesn’t sleep much anymore. Now, he doesn’t need to, with enough angel left in him that he can function without fulfilling basic human needs, such as food or water or sleep. But still, he finds comfort in the slow peace that comes with falling asleep in the arms of Sam and Dean.

These days, though, his dreams are haunted by memories and voices. Angels who scorn him, friends who cry for him, and his family, Sam and Dean and Jack, betrayed and angry and dying. Sleep isn’t so peaceful anymore.

His son doesn’t sleep much either. Even less, now that Sam and Dean have both taken to wandering around the bunker in the early hours of the morning. Often, Cas finds Jack making new bracelets in the library, and tonight is no exception.

He sits down beside his son, wondering how long he’s been awake. The bracelet held delicately in Jack’s hand has no pattern, made up of a rainbow assortment of beads in no particular order. Cas runs his fingers through his son’s hair, sparing a smile, then pulls his hands back to himself, not wanting to crowd him.

“You aren’t crowding me,” Jack says. “I can hear you, remember?”

Cas nods, resting a hand on Jack’s back.

“Of course.”

No. That’s a lie. He’d forgotten, for the briefest of moments, that Jack can hear the angels too.

“Who’s that bracelet for?” Cas asks, though it’s not really what he wants to talk about. Then again, he’s not sure he wants to talk about anything right now.

“Claire,” Jack answers. “They’re chaos, and so are mismatched rainbows. Alex’s are all neat and made of primary colors. They’re over there.”

He doesn’t point, but Cas still somehow knows what he means, catching sight of the pile of bracelets on the next table over.

“You should sleep, Jacky,” he says softly. “It’s late.”

Jack shrugs. Cas thinks it should probably bother him that his son won’t look at him.

“Sleep is horrible,” he says. “I don’t need it. Besides, I can’t.”

Cas moves his hand up Jack’s back, cupping the back of his neck.

“Why not?”

Jack pauses, anger simmering in his eyes. His hands shake around the half-finished bracelet he holds, mouth set in a straight, unhappy line.

“Because Dad always tries to kill me. And Mom is always crying and screaming. And you’re always dead with your wings torn out,” he spits. “And I’m always alone. Angry and sad and alone.”

Cas thinks back to his breakdown the other night, the way they’d all curled around him and still nothing had helped. How Jack had cried himself to sleep and then pretended nothing had happened.

He is all too much like them.

“We’re not going anywhere, Jacky,” he murmurs, though he knows it won’t help. “We’re always gonna be right here. We’re always gonna love you.”

Jack snorts, dropping the bracelet he’s holding and standing up, fists clenched by his sides. Beads scatter everywhere, sounding like a rainstorm in the calm of the night.

“Yeah,” he rasps, trembling as he turns away and stalks off. “My mother said that too.”

Cas closes his eyes, dragging his hands down his face. He feels the tears start to surface, but he shoves them back, desperate not to break.

If he breaks then he shatters, and they all fall apart.

**let me take your coat**

**and this weight off of your shoulders**

_ Sinner, _ the angels greet him with today.  _ Fallen. Favorite. Unworthy. Traitor. _

_ I know,  _ he answers.  _ I know. _

They don’t seem to care.

Next to him, Sam is asleep, snoring softly. Dean is pressed against Cas’ back, an arm around his waist, breath warm against Cas’ neck.

In his mind, the angels sneer.

_ Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. _

He purses his lips, brow furrowing in concentration as he tries to shut them out. They only scream louder.

_ I love them,  _ he screams back.  _ I love them, and I’m not sorry! I don’t regret it! I never will. _

The angels laugh. Cas feels himself shaking, his wings burning with pain.

_ Liar. Liar. Liar. _

**like a force to be reckoned with**

**a mighty ocean or a gentle kiss**

**I will love you with every single thing I have**

“Cassie.”

Dean’s voice is gentle and rough in his ear. Cas keeps his eyes carefully closed, not wanting to leave the safety of this room. Of their bed, of their love.

“Cassie, honey,” Dean whispers. Cas feels his lips tremble.

They haven’t called him honey in years.

He tries to slow his breathing, but they know he’s awake now. On his other side, Sam shuffles closer, kissing Cas’ forehead.

“Honey,” he murmurs. Cas shivers. He pretends it’s because of Dean’s lips against his nape and not because of how fragile he suddenly feels.

“Honey,” Sam says again. “Honey, talk to us.”

Cas shakes his head, the tears building up in his eyes. He curls in on himself, covering his mouth with the blanket in a vain effort to silence his sobs.

“Cas,” Dean mumbles. “Angel, please.”

Castiel shatters.

**like a tidal wave, I'll make a mess**

**or calm waters, if that serves you best**

**I will love you without any strings attached**

Crowley arrives unannounced at twelve-o-three, exactly. He smiles upon seeing Cas, huddled in his trench coat in the Winchesters’ bed. Sam and Dean have travelled downstairs, claiming they’ll leave him be, but Cas knows they’ll be back in a few minutes, with tea and a cassette tape attached to a headset blasting The Beatles. He wonders where Jack is, then buries his head in his arms, trying to block out the flurry of screams that comes with the question.

Crowley takes a seat on the bed, hands folded in his lap as he looks out of the window at the sun rising.

“Did they summon you?” Cas asks, his voice gravelly from exhaustion and dehydration, probably. He’s more and more human by the day.

Crowley only shakes his head, unfazed as ever.

“No. Bobby wanted to see his boys. I’m just along for the ride.”

Cas grumbles out a curse word in Enochian, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. It’s a lie, he knows.

“Then why are you here with me?”

_ Instead of with him,  _ he leaves hanging in the air. Cas has never been quite sure of the relationship between Crowley and the Winchesters’ surrogate father, as neither of them are very open-mouthed or open-minded about it.

“I know we have a rocky history, but I do care about you, Cas,” Crowley says dryly, looking bored. “Do give me  _ some _ credit.”

Cas rolls his eyes, burying his head back in his arms where it’s dark and quiet. He likes it better there, alone.

Crowley sighs.

“The angels are wrong, Cas,” he says. His voice is hushed, almost gentle, and for the briefest of moments Cas believes him. “There is nothing sinful about your love with the Winchesters.”

Cas is careful not to move, hoping Crowley will leave. Then maybe he can finally be alone.

_ Alone. Alone. Lonely. Unwanted. Unneeded. Alone. _

“Cas.”

_ Unworthy. Reckless. Traitor. _

“Castiel.”

_ Unloved. _

Cas’s head snaps up, glare boring into Crowley. He unfurls his wings, trying not to flinch when his flayed nerves scream in protest.

“Get. Ou -”

His feathers brush Crowley’s back as they ruffle in the breeze.

_ Worried. Needed to see you. Concerned. Need help. Want to help. Miss you. Desperate. Devastated. Want you better. Want you okay. Need you happy. Love you. _

Cas feels every bone in his body burn with Crowley’s oh so carefully concealed emotions as they rush through him, thought after thought of frantic desperation. He clutches his head, Crowley’s hands on his arms, his voice in his ear.

“Forgive yourself, Castiel.”

In the silence, Cas holds him tightly back. He wishes it were that simple.

_ I can’t. _

**it's okay if you can't catch your breath**

**you can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest**

Jack’s sitting on the stairs this time, staring out the window at the rain. The only two bracelets on his wrist are the black, grey, white, and purple one and the black, grey, white, and green one. As Cas approaches him, he wipes his mouth with his sleeve, willing his churning stomach to calm. He’s been sick lately.

It’s getting harder to hide.

“Jacky?”

Jack doesn’t look at him. Cas wonders how long it’s been since his son has met his eyes.

“The voices are getting worse,” he says. “We’ve noticed, you know. How… unhappy you are.”

Cas looks down at his bare feet. His chest tightens, like something is strangling his heart, and his wings ache, ache,  _ ache _ .

“I’m fine.”

Jack looks at him. Cas keeps his eyes on the ground, afraid of what his son might see if he doesn’t.

“You can’t breathe, Zod,” he whispers. “They never shut up. You can’t breathe, and they’ll never shut up.”

Cas blinks back the tears. He has to stop crying.

“Go to bed, Jacky.”

**I know exactly how the rule goes**

**put my mask on first**

Sunday morning, Sam panics at breakfast, his favorite mug in scattered pieces on the ground. Dean’s screaming curse words, bawling into his hands on his knees, furious with himself for being too loud too fast. Cas is holding both of them to his chest, wishing his wings were stronger, wishing he could protect them better.

Jack is sitting alone in his room.

_ Worthless,  _ the angels hiss.  _ Broken. Failure. Helpless. Traitor. _

Cas grits his teeth, murmuring to Dean as he hushes Sam.

_ I’m trying. _

The angels laugh. Cas remembers when they used to be kind.

_ Try harder. _

**no, I don't want to talk about myself**

**tell me where it hurts**

Afterwards, Sam holes himself up in their room, staring out the window at the rain. Dean goes to the garage, and Jack emerges timidly from his room, running into Cas’ arms as soon as he sees him.

The day gets better, as some days do. Charlie and Kevin come around noon, arms full of takeout from the nearest Chinese restaurant. Cas offers them a tired smile when he opens the door, ushering them inside.

Charlie rushes into Dean’s arms first, his fingers fisted in her hair as if it’s been years since they last saw each other. Sam pulls Kevin against him, smiling when Jack rushes in to greet them, shouting excitedly.

“Auntie Charlie! Uncle Kevin!”

Charlie screams delightedly, squeezing Jack nearly to death as he laughs against her. Dean raises an offended eyebrow and Sam smiles, Kevin chuckling between them.

Jack drags Charlie to the library, handing her bracelet after bracelet as they ramble on and on about  _ Dungeons & Dragons _ . Charlie starts making a bracelet of her own out of pink and green beads.

Sam and Kevin waste no time curling themselves in a corner of the library, thumbing through a giant encyclopedia of monsters. Sam seems less tired than he has in weeks, eyes lit up like fireworks as they pore over the words on the page.

Cas startles as a hand wraps around his, turning to see Dean smiling at him with a fond twinkle in his eyes.

“Wanna head upstairs, honey?” He whispers, his smile morphing into a playful smirk. Cas rolls his eyes, an amused smile on his lips. Something in Dean’s eyes shines as Cas leans in and kisses him, relishing in the feeling of Dean’s hands on his skin.

He pulls away with a raspy remark, leaving Dean stunned speechless.

“After you, darling.”

**I just want to build you up, build you up**

**til you're good as new**

**and maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too**

Cas wakes up cradled in Dean’s arms, with the sunlight streaming in and washing them in gold. His head on Dean’s chest, he opens his eyes just enough to see that Sam’s not there with them, tangled up in dirty sheets.

Under his ear, Dean’s heart beats steadily, like a drum.

_ Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. _

Cas closes his eyes. The angels are quiet.

**I don't even know where to start**

**already tired of trying to recall when it all fell apart**

When Cas finally wanders downstairs, leaving Dean in their bed with a kiss on the forehead and whispered  _ I love you, _ Sam is waiting for him with breakfast. He smiles, cupping Cas’ cheek in his hand and kissing him soft, kissing him slow.

“I love you,” Cas blurts when Sam pulls away, unable to ever really say how much, and Sam smiles wider, kissing him again.

“I know,” he says. He looks happy. “I love you too.”

He takes Cas’ hand, leading him gently to the table, where he sits down beside Jack. Sam places a plate of pancakes in front of both of them, kissing their cheeks, and leaves the room with a last smile.

“I’m gonna check on Dean.”

Jack picks up his fork and starts eating, not looking at Cas. He seems shy, almost, scared, so Cas doesn’t ask him any questions, instead grasping the mug of coffee Sam left for him and taking a sip.

Under the table, Jack’s fingers curl around his hand.

Cas squeezes them, smiles, and kisses his son’s head.

“Good morning, Jacky.”

**I just want to love you, to love you, to love you well**

**I just want to learn how, somehow, to be loved myself**

_ Fallen. Failure. Worthless. Unwanted. Traitor. _

Cas closes his eyes, twisting the rings on his fourth finger. His son’s head presses against his shoulder, nudging him gently. He kisses Jack’s head with a shaky smile.

_ Listen. Listen! Nobody needs you. You are all alone. They don’t love you, they’re just pretending. You’re just their little angel, at their beck and call - _

“I’m not,” he says, too loudly. “No, I’m not.”

Jack shifts next to him, his hand grasping Cas’ too tightly.

“Zod -”

_ Worthless!  _ The angels shriek.  _ Traitor! Unloved! Unneeded! Hated, hated, hated, they hate you - _

“No, no, no,” Cas whispers, pressing his hands over his ears. “No, no, they love me -”

_ Ha!  _ The angels cackle.  _ Who would, Castiel? You’re a fuck-up, a disobedient failure, you mean nothing - _

He chokes as he tries to breathe, Jack’s hands tugging at him desperately. Faintly, he can hear him calling for Sam and Dean. He wonders if they’ll even come.

_ They hate you! How could you ever deserve the love of the Winchesters? God’s favorites, the Winchesters, how could they ever love you - _

“Please,” he rasps, Sam and Dean stumbling into the kitchen. They wrap their arms around him, holding him close. His wings scream in pain as he unfurls them around his husbands, letting the feeling of their love sink into him.

Still, even as Jack gently pulls his hands from his ears and holds them tight, he can hear the angels.

_ Unworthy! Worthless! Unloved! Unneeded! Unwanted! Failure! Fallen! Hated! Helpless! Liar! Broken! Whore! _

“I know,” he croaks. “I know…”

_ TRAITOR! _

He sobs, melting into Sam and Dean’s arms. His ears bleed, his eyes too, tears and red seeping from his tightly shut eyes.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…” Sam mutters, Dean’s hands cupping Cas’ face roughly. “Oh my God, Cas, honey, please -”

_ Brother. _

“I’m sorry,” Cas gasps. “I’m so sorry.”

**like a force to be reckoned with**

**a mighty ocean or a gentle kiss**

**I will love you without any strings attached**

He dreams of wide open fields.

Grass sways in the breeze, wildflowers scattered throughout the blades. The sky is blue and endless. The sun is bright and golden, warm on his face. He unfurls his wings and lets the wind ruffle his feathers, feeling completely painless for the first time in years.

_ Remember this place? _

The voice is soft, loving. He can hear the smile in it.

_ Come home, Castiel,  _ it croons. The trees sing a song, something sweet and calming.

_ You could be in Heaven again, _ the voice coaxes.  _ You could be with all of us. Your brothers and sisters. Our Father. _

Cas closes his eyes, smiling to himself. The tune feels familiar, somehow.

_ Come home, Castiel. _

A memory floats behind his eyelids, Sam’s soft voice in his head.

_ “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You.” _

He can feel Dean’s lips against his neck, hands pressed against the dimples on his back.

_ “Elvis Presley.” _

Jack’s bracelet,  _ ZOD, _ hangs from his wrist, close to slipping off into the grass.

_ “1961.” _

Cas smiles.

“I am home.”

**and what a privilege it is to love**

**a great honor to hold you up**

Cas comes to surrounded by gold.

The sun is shining through the window, birds chirping sweet songs to the rhythm of the wind. He glances around in wonder, realizing that this paradise is his bedroom, the one he shares with Sam and Dean.

Someone squeezes his hand.

He turns his head, smiling softly at his son. Jack smiles back, squeezing Cas’ hand again.

“We missed you.”

Cas wants to close his eyes, but instead he smiles a little wider.

“I missed you too.”

Jack is quiet for a moment. Cas leans back into the pillows, turning his head towards the door. He wonders where his husbands are.

He notes, groggily, that Jack’s bracelet is still on his wrist.

“You know,” Jack says slowly, waiting for Cas to look at him before he continues. “Mom and Dad love you, Zod.”

Cas smiles.

“I know, Jacky.”

Jack offers a shaky smile back. He squeezes Cas’ hand comfortingly.

“Do you?” He asks gently. “Because you keep trying to cover up your pain to help theirs, as if they don’t hurt with you. You all hurt together, that’s what love is.”

“Jack,” Cas says softly, but Jack doesn’t let him finish.

“No, Zod,” he whispers. “You need to understand, you can stop. You can stop hiding, you can stop running, you can stop trying to earn their love.” He smiles sadly. “I get it, you’re scared. But we’re all scared. We all hurt. You are  _ not alone, _ Zod. We’re right here.”

There are tears in Jack’s eyes when he presses a kiss to Cas’ hand with his trembling lips.

“You can let go, Zod,” he murmurs. “Just let go.”

So in the safety of the sunlight, his son’s hand in his, Castiel cries.

**like a force to be reckoned with**

**a mighty ocean or a gentle kiss**

**I will love you with every single thing I have**

Outside, the rain falls quietly. Cas feels more at peace than he has in days, the moonlight streaming through the window like a beam from a lighthouse. Beside him, Sam lays sprawled and still, and Dean tosses restlessly, only settling when Cas brushes a hand through his hair.

Neither brother has taken off their ring in days, leaving the surrounding skin blotchy and red. It’s poetic, in a way; they continue to keep their promise of love to him, despite the pain that comes with it.

He touches Sam’s back, running his fingers through Dean’s hair again. He unfurls his wings, letting them lay gently over the Winchesters’ backs. He smiles.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

**like a tidal wave, I'll make a mess**

**or calm waters if that serves you best**

Cas awakens to Sam’s smiling lips trailing kisses down his chest and Dean’s gruff voice murmuring in his ear. He closes his eyes, turning his head to silence Dean with a soft kiss.

“Hey, angel,” Sam whispers, wrapping his arms around Cas’ torso and resting his chin on his chest. “Mornin’.”

Cas smiles, humming. Sam presses a gentle kiss over his heart, ducking his head so his hair hides his face. Dean kisses Cas’ forehead, brushing his hand through his hair.

“You alright, honey?” He asks, real quiet. Cas nods.

“Of course.”

Sam offers him a reassuring smile, taking Cas’ hand and brushing his thumb across the back of it.

“You sure?” He says, kissing Cas’ knuckles. “Because you’re allowed to be a mess, Cassie. We’re all a fucking mess.”

Cas laughs, a faint sound that hurts his throat. Dean kisses his head, and Sam kisses Cas’ wedding rings.

“We promised to take care of each other,” he says, voice hushed and gentle. “That doesn’t mean you look after us and we ignore you, Cas. It means you support us in every way you can, and we do the same for you.”

“That’s right,” Dean murmurs in his ear, fingers threading through Cas’, his palm pressed to the back of Cas’ hand. “You don’t have to carry all the weight, Cassie. We share the weight.”

Sam smiles, eyes shining hopefully. He shuffles closer, craning his neck to kiss Cas’ lips.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “That’s what marriage is.”

He shifts again, pressing his forehead to Cas’. His smile softens.

“That’s why we love each other.”

**I will love you without any strings attached**

**I will love you without a single string attached**

Castiel has gone by many names in his life.

_ Traitor. Cas. Favorite. Honey. Fallen. Cassie. Whore. Winchester. Angel. _

His favorite, though, by far, is the name strung around his wrist in blue and purple beads.

_ ZOD. _

He has been called so many names in his life he sometimes forgets them. Some names have been lovely, caresses against his earlobe. Others have been biting, thorns drawing blood.  _ Angel _ has always fallen somewhere in between.

Sam’s hand tightens in his as he lays his head on Cas’ shoulder, smiling despite the way his eyelids droop. Dean’s got his arms crossed over his chest, a grin on his lips as they watch Jack, gesturing wildly with his arms as he tells a story, making shadow puppets on the wall.

Cas wonders how Jack perceives stories. Is he aware that his parents are legends, that his family is folklore? Does he know he graces every myth and play and poem to ever have been written, or does he believe his story is a small, insignificant puzzle piece in the book of creation?

Jack will have a million names too. As he grows, they will be hurled at his head and whispered to his heart. Cas can only hope they will be mostly kind.

_ Sinner,  _ the angels murmur. Cas smiles.

He thinks to himself,  _ I forgive you. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ and though the fear within my heart still drives me over the edge _

_ it is you that I want to hold me in bed _

_ and should the sun shine tomorrow I’ll be holding my head _

_ cause I’ll be hoping for raindrops instead _

_ fresh roses in my garden need the rain _

_ I’ve been hoping for clouds but the sun remains _

_ fresh roses in my garden need the rain _

_ heaven sent me your love but it keeps me chained. _

_ \- Juke Ross (Fresh Roses) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3


	4. Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics from "As Long As You Love Me" by Sleeping At Last
> 
> PLAYLIST:  
> I Get To Love You (Ruelle)  
> As Long As You Love Me (Sleeping At Last)  
> Forever (Chris Brown)  
> Tuesdays (Jake Scott)  
> The Book of You & I (Alec Benjamin)  
> Talk to Me (Cavetown)  
> Amazing Grace (Sleeping At Last)  
> Infinity (One Direction)  
> A.M. (One Direction)  
> Oh My God (Alec Benjamin)  
> Forever Like That (Ben Rector)  
> Rainbow Veins (Owl City)  
> Must Have Been The Wind (Alec Benjamin)  
> Someday (Rob Thomas)  
> St. Cecilia’s (Animal Flag)  
> Runaway (AURORA)  
> Guillotine (Jon Bellion, Travis Mendes)  
> I Love You Will Still Sound The Same (Oh Honey)  
> The Wedding Song (Matthew Mole)  
> I Knew This Would Be Love (Imaginary Future)  
> Take My Hand (The Wedding Song) (Emily Hackett, Will Anderson)  
> My Love (3rd & Union)  
> Take The World (Johnnyswim)  
> Found A Heart (Emily Hearn)  
> Light (Sleeping At Last)  
> In Our Bedroom After The War (Stars)  
> Towards The Sun (Rihanna)

_I get to love you_

_it’s the best thing that I’ll ever do_

_I get to love you_

_it’s a promise I’m making to you_

_whatever may come_

_your heart I will choose_

_forever I’m yours_

_forever I do_

_I get to love you_

_I get to love you._

_\- Ruelle (I Get To Love You)_

**loneliness has always been a friend of mine**

**I'm leaving my life in your hands**

Something’s changed.

It’s small. Hardly anything to cry over. But Jack finds tears slipping from his eyes as he stares at the photo next to the tangled pile of bracelets on his bedside table, him and his parents smiling with light in their eyes. Everything’s seemed so dark lately.

It always rains. Now, Jack loves the rain. Sam used to pull him outside with no raincoat, yelling at him to take off his shoes. Cas would follow, dragging Dean behind him by the hand, and they’d dance under the flashing sky together. Sam would be laughing, his hair stuck to his face, and Cas would be smiling at him, Dean offering a shy grin of his own as he hugged Cas from behind, kissing his neck.

Jack knows his parents aren’t normal. He’s been at home most of his life, and all the movies he’s seen prove that normal means a girl and a guy together, just the two of them. But somehow, when Cas kisses Dean’s cheek or Sam takes Cas’ hand in his own, Jack knows it doesn’t matter. They are _his_ normal, and that’s all he really needs to know.

There are no pictures of the day they married each other. No photos of Sam’s bright smile, or Cas’ twinkling eyes, or Dean’s shaking hands. Sometimes, Jack is glad they were married before he came along, because he’s heard their love story and it’s messy and complicated, something he would’ve only made harder.

Still, as he stares at the photo on his bedside table, he thinks of how they’d been upstairs, so happy and open and warm. He wonders how long it’s been since he hasn’t worried about Sam panicking, or Dean screaming, or Cas crying. He wonders how long he’s had to.

He wonders if in the morning they’ll be back to messy and complicated, or if they’ll finally be messy simply.

**people say I'm crazy and that I am blind**

**risking it all in a glance**

Jack wakes to the smell of pancakes wafting in from the kitchen. Sam’s leaning in the doorway, smiling at him with his arms crossed over his chest. Jack smiles back.

“Ready for breakfast, Jacky? Dee’s made bacon.”

Jack nods, slipping on his bracelets before heading to the door. He tucks himself under Sam’s arm, quiet as they make their way down the hall.

In the kitchen, Dean’s iPod is playing Metallica softly. He’s singing along, flipping pancakes in a pan next to a full platter of bacon. Cas is watching him from the table with a soft smile, amusement twinkling fondly in his eyes.

Sam leads Jack to the table, the two of them sitting on one side while Dean brings the bacon over, kissing Jack’s forehead as he passes by. Cas smiles at Jack, reaching over and squeezing his hand in greeting.

“Morning, Jacky,” he whispers. Jack smiles, taking his hand back and fidgeting with his bracelets as Dean returns with plates and silverware. He leaves once more to start serving the pancakes, then finally settles down with syrup and peanut butter on the table.

He smiles at Jack.

“Hey, Jacky.”

Jack loves his parents. He thinks this as they all start digging in, each plate filled with a different color of pancake (nearly white for Sam, golden brown for Cas, deep brown for Dean, and soft yellow for Jack). It hits him, hard and suddenly, that he loves them more than he can say.

“I, uh, wanted to tell you guys something.”

Dean freezes, Cas slowly coming to a stop beside him. Sam casts a careful glance towards the two and then at Jack, offering a reassuring smile. Jack looks away.

“I’m, uh.” Under the table, he slips his hand into Sam’s, who jumps in surprise. Jack holds his breath, waiting for the ensuing panic attack, his fault this time. But it doesn’t come, and as the silence grows tenser, he knows he has to bite the bullet.

“I’m ace,” he says quietly, looking down at his lap. Sam squeezes his hand, and Jack’s eyes are drawn to their nearly matching bracelets, black and grey and white and purple against tan skin. “And aromantic. I’ve been… I’ve known for… awhile, now.”

He chances a glance upwards. Cas is smiling softly at him, tired eyes focused on him without judgement. Jack forces his breaths to stay even, raising his head slowly to meet Dean’s eyes.

“Well,” Dean says, slow. “Obviously, we love you no matter what. That’s never gonna change.”

Jack smiles despite his nervousness, shuffling closer to Sam on the bench. If Dean notices, he doesn’t show it.

“But unfortunately,” he continues, and Jack holds his breath. “I don’t know everything. So what’s aromantic?”

Jack huffs out a relieved laugh.

“It means I can’t fall in love,” he explains, hoping the way Dean’s nodding is a good thing. “I don’t have romantic feelings for people, basically.”

Dean hums. Cas leans his head on his shoulder, his plate empty and smile content.

“Okay. Good for you, kid.”

He pecks Cas’ head, going back to his pancakes. Jack lets out a breath, turning to Sam with a wide smile. Sam hugs him from the side, kissing his head with a whisper in his ear.

“I’m proud of you, Jack.”

Jack closes his eyes.

“Thanks, Mom.”

He’s proud of himself too.

**and how you got me blind is still a mystery**

**I can't get you out of my head**

Later that day, they head outside. It’s raining, yet again, and Sam’s laughing as he spins around, arms spread wide. Cas’ wings have unfurled, as beautiful as they are broken, and Jack smiles as the two men collide, Cas grinning against Sam’s lips as he chases them, Sam wrapping his arms around Cas’ neck.

Beside Jack, Dean smiles, throwing an arm around his son’s shoulders, kissing his head.

“Sharing is caring,” he says, some sort of stupidly fond happiness in his voice, and Jack nods, standing on his tiptoes to kiss his parent’s cheek.

“I know, Dad,” he says. “You care a lot.”

In the distance, Sam is laughing as Cas hovers around him, pulling on Sam’s hands. They look like kids in love, as if they’ve only just met. Jack wonders if this is what they looked like the day they were married.

Next to him, Dean softens.

“Damn right I do,” he murmurs. Jack hums, laying his head on his shoulder.

He knows.

**don't care what is written in your history**

**as long as you're here with me**

Jack thinks that maybe, sometimes, they’re happier than they think. They worry so much the good times become shadows behind the spotlight of panic attacks and breakdowns, but they’re… they’re happy, together. At least, they’re getting there.

On the steps, Sam and Dean are sitting side by side, heads bent together as they whisper. Sam’s smiling, and he throws his head back in a laugh when Dean says something, prompting a proud grin to stretch across Dean’s face.

The two of them are close. Jack wonders if they were closer before, because he’s seen the pictures, or if they’ve grown into this affection comfortably as the years pass them by - a hand on the shoulder to a hug, a high five to a kiss on the cheek. Little gestures, growing in fondness and frequency.

Jack fingers the bracelets on his wrist. Some people think aromantic means loveless, he knows, but they’re wrong.

**I don't care who you are**

**where you're from, what you did**

**as long as you love me**

Jack wakes at three a.m. to music playing softly through the air vents. If this wasn’t his life, he’d ask questions. However, this is his life, so instead of wasting his breath he heads downstairs, where Cas is flying around the entryway, Sam watching him with a smile from the ground. Dean’s chasing him, reaching out for the angel with hands that barely miss. Cas is laughing, eventually crashing into Dean’s arms and kissing him hard, Dean melting at the touch of feathers to his skin.

Jack approaches quietly, tucking himself under Sam’s arm.

“What’s this, Mom?” He asks, not sure if he means the flying, the music, or something else. Sam shrugs, smile softening as Cas’ feet touch the ground again, his fingers tangled in Dean’s hair.

“ _Rainbow Veins,_ ” he answers. “Owl City. One of Cas’ favorites. Old, too.”

Jack hums, pressing his face into Sam’s chest. He’s tired. Happy, but tired.

“I like it. It’s three a.m. though.”

Sam shrugs, kissing Jack’s head.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

If they were normal, they’d all be in bed right now. Instead, Cas drags Dean towards them, enveloping Jack and Sam in his wings with a smile. Jack kisses Cas’ cheek.

“We’re crazy,” he says, and Dean snorts, arms crossed. He doesn’t seem to notice when Sam kisses his forehead.

“Have been for years.”

Jack wonders when that became something they were proud of.

**who you are**

**where you're from, what you did**

**as long as you love me**

His dreams are scarred with blood and tears.

He is naked in a field of ash, cuts marring his skin. They cross over each other in red x’s, dripping scarlet down his arms and legs and back. Tears bleed from his eyes, black and silver and gold trailing down his cheeks in streams.

Above him, the angels fly in swarms. Their black wings and claws slash through the air, ripping into Cas’ bruised skin and white feathers. He cries out, screaming for Sam and Dean, but the hunters don’t come. Instead, Jack is paralyzed, watching his parent be torn to pieces, helpless against gravity.

As Cas hits the ground, he shatters into dust, ash billowing up in looming black clouds. From them comes Dean, eyes dark and cold. Jack tries to back away, but his feet are rooted to the ground, snakes slithering up his legs and sinking their fangs into his sides.

He screams, collapsing to his knees in pain. Dean stares down at him, an evil, sick sneer lurking on his face. Jack tries to speak, mouthing, _Dad,_ but no words come out, only a hopeless croak. Dean raises his gun, aiming between Jack’s eyes, and Jack squeezes them shut, praying desperately for salvation.

Rain pours down, lightning cracking and thunder rumbling. Jack risks a glance just in time to see Dean fall to his knees, holding Sam in his arms. Sam’s eyes are shut, a bullethole between his eyes. Dean’s gun lays abandoned on the ground a few feet away, tears streaking down the hunter’s cheeks as he rocks his brother back and forth, sobbing apologies into the apathetic air.

“Mom,” Jack rasps, and wakes up.

**every little thing that you said and done**

**feels like it's deep within me**

The crescent moon barely shines. He’s alone on the steps, with only the porchlight on, and the door is closed behind him. He knows it’s dangerous to be out here alone, but somehow he can’t bring himself to care, his dream still flashing through his head in broken fragments.

A soft mewl comes from the dark, startling him. He turns his head towards the noise, eyes glowing gold as his wings unfurl, ready to launch him up into the safe sky.

Paws emerge from the shadows, then a snout. Orange fur, soft to the touch, brushes up against him, the cat curling herself around his leg. Looking up at him, her pupils narrow to slits, showing clear, dark eyes. She meows.

Jack gently lifts her into his arms, carefully brushing his hand along her back. She purrs, pushing her nose into his cheek, and he smiles.

Behind him, the door opens.

He’s careful not to meet Sam’s eyes as he settles next to him, a hand coming to rest on his back. As Sam leans over to kiss his forehead, Jack wonders what time it is.

“What’s her name?”

Jack shrugs. If he’s quiet for long enough, Sam will leave. Hopefully.

The cat sniffs Sam cautiously, allowing his large hand to pet her head. Seemingly reaching a good verdict, she climbs over Jack’s lap and onto Sam’s, slithering her way upwards until she’s wound around his shoulders. Sam smiles.

“She’s sweet,” he murmurs. “Soft, too.”

Jack shrugs yet again. Sam reaches over and takes his hand.

“Did you have a nightmare again?”

Jack doesn’t answer, laying his head against Sam’s shoulder. The cat’s tail brushes his nose, which twitches with the sudden urge to sneeze. He quells it, focusing on the sound of Sam’s breath, steady and quiet in the dark.

“Jacky.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mom.”

Sam runs a hand through his hair, jostling the cat slightly. She mewls in protest, and Sam apologizes softly, a habit he’s never quite broken out of.

“I always worry about you, Jacky,” he says, honestly. “I worry about Dee and Cas too. That’s just who I am, I worry. But why are you worrying?”

Jack closes his eyes.

“I’m not worried.”

“You don’t sleep anymore, Jack.” Jack wants to point out that he doesn’t need to, but Sam doesn’t give him the chance. “Something is wrong. We all know something is wrong.”

Jack shrugs, pulling away. Sam doesn’t try to touch him, staying carefully still.

“Is it us?” Sam asks, gentle. “Is that what you dream about every night? Are we hurting you?”

Jack shakes his head, looking down at his hands, folded tightly in his lap. There are red marks on his palms from the friction.

“Not really,” he whispers. “Not always. Just… I’m tired, Mom.”

Sam doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. Instead, he coaxes the cat from his shoulder into his arms, standing up and carrying her inside.

A moment later, he returns, holding out a hand for Jack. Taking it, Jack wonders how long it’ll be until they stop coming back for him at all.

**doesn't really matter if you're on the run**

**seems like we're meant to be**

“We can’t keep it,” is the first thing Dean says when he sees the cat. “We are not keeping it.”

Sam huffs out a laugh, kissing Cas’ head when the angel steps closer, reaching out curiously to the cat. Jack smiles at the sight.

“It’s a she, Dee,” Sam says. “And yes, we’re keeping her.”

The cat mewls in agreement from Sam’s arms, purring when Cas brushes his fingers over the top of her head. Dean sputters.

“No! We can’t - we don’t have - just -”

Sam raises an eyebrow. Dean shakes his head, crossing his arms.

“No. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not happening -”

“C’mon, darling,” Cas says, wandering over to Dean’s side with the cat in his arms now. “Look, she’s so sweet.”

Dean wrinkles his nose, recoiling as the cat stretches her paw towards him. Sam snickers.

“Dean, she’s not gonna hurt you.”

Dean shakes his head, exasperated.

“Sammy, you can’t be serious.”

Jack grins as Cas backs Dean into a wall, the cat pressed between their chests. Cas is giving him the look, the one he always gets right before he and Dean disappear.

“Please, Dad?” Jack croons, knowing exactly what the answer will be.

Dean sighs.

**and I don't care who you are**

**where you're from, what you did**

**as long as you love me**

They name her Mary.

She sleeps in Jack’s room, curled against his stomach. He does his best not to disturb her, lying still even as his legs start to fall asleep and his shoulders cramp.

On the bedside table, the picture of Sam, Dean, Cas, and him smiles at him. There’s something warm about it, inviting, though those earlier days were no doubt harder than now.

Long hours pass with him looking at picture after picture, the faces of his smiling family almost eerily still in the dark. Eventually, his eyes grow tired, and as they slip shut he catches one last peek at the photo on his bedside table, his parents’ wedding rings sparkling against the plaid he wore that day.

He wishes he could’ve seen their wedding. It’s the first time he admits it to himself, this unfathomable longing for a memory that’s not his, but it’s there, sharp and painful all the same.

Jack wants to see those smiles in person.

**who you are**

**where you're from, what you did**

**as long as you love me**

Jody, Claire, and Alex show up unannounced on Friday night, just in time for dinner. They’re greeted with tight hugs and warm smiles, settling in at the table of maps with the rest of them.

Under the table, Claire takes Jack’s hand. He smiles, and they lean over to whisper in his ear.

“You tell ‘em yet?” They ask. He nods his head, watching his parents as they play their parts. Almost masterfully, Sam keeps himself still even when Alex slams her glass on the table in a fit of laughter. Cas has his wings carefully tucked behind him, his smile content and just wide enough. Dean is laughing, eyes sparkling despite the way his hand shakes just slightly around his beer bottle.

“Hey,” Claire says, drawing his attention back to them. “You alright?”

Jack shrugs. He feels Mary rub up against his leg under the table, and takes a moment to coax her onto his lap and into his arms. Claire smiles at the sight, petting the cat’s head gently.

“I wasn’t around when they got married,” Jack says, quiet. Claire hums.

“I wasn’t either. They kept it quiet. You know how they were.” They pause, pursing their lips. “Well. Are.”

Jack sighs. Mary nuzzles into his chest, brushing her pink nose against his neck with a mewl.

“I wish I could’ve seen them,” he whispers. “Happy, ya know. Feeling alright.”

Claire shrugs, grinning when Mary climbs into their lap. They scratch behind Mary’s ear, squeezing Jack’s hand.

“They are happy, Jack,” they say. “You, each other, that’s what makes them happy. You know family is everything to the Winchesters.”

Jack lets the ghost of a smile flit across his face.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I know.”

**I've tried to hide it so that no one knows**

**but I guess it shows when you look into my eyes**

In between their nights alone and their days together, there’s grey. A soft blanket of could-be snow, covering them in cold and comfort.

Cas looks ready to drop after dinner, prompting Dean to lead him upstairs to their bedroom. Neither of them reemerge, so Sam takes it upon himself to see Jody, Claire, and Alex out. As soon as the door shuts behind them, Sam falls to his knees, finally letting out the harsh breaths he’s been holding for hours.

Jack tries to approach him, but Sam waves him off, curling in on himself. Normally, Jack would call for Cas and Dean, but it seems pointless now. Sam isn’t really panicking, he’s just… staring.

Mary mewls, crawling over to them. Jack reaches for her, trying to pull her away from Sam, but she pushes forward, settling in Sam’s trembling arms. He buries his face in her fur, calloused fingers gently pressing into her sides.

Jack doesn’t quite know what to do.

“Tell me about the day you married Zod,” he tries. “I wanna know everything.”

Sam is still, his hand running slowly down Mary’s back and up again. He shrugs, voice tight and eerily… calm, almost.

“It was raining,” he says. “It was cold. He was wearing his trenchcoat and I was wearing my Stanford hoodie. Dean was in that old leather jacket he always used to wear, and we were all smiling.”

Jack hums, daring to inch closer. He settles by Sam’s side, taking his hand. For a moment, all he can think of is how much smaller his palms are.

“We were in a forest,” Sam whispers. His breathing’s started to even out, his hand steady as it runs down Mary’s back again and again. “So many trees surrounded us we couldn’t see the sky. We’d set up camp for the night, the fire almost dead, and we each took turns drinking from a flask of whiskey. Cas’ nose kept twitching. He doesn’t like whiskey. Says it’s too strong… says it burns…”

He trails off, seemingly lost in thought. Jack thinks about asking more questions, but then decides better of it. Instead he lets the silence grow, engulfing them in calm, grey snow.

**what you did and where you're coming from**

**well, I don't care, as long as you love me**

**as long as you love me**

Tonight, Jack dreams of mellow blue. It paints his skin into waterfalls, small gems of gold and silver appearing every once in awhile. His nails, black like the night, are smooth and unbroken. His eyes are plain white in the single mirror, and he smiles.

Then, behind him, other colorful bodies appear. Sam, painted the sunshine of yellow daffodils, his eyes twinkling like golden stars. Dean, red like the heart in his chest, his lips curled in a crimson smile. Cas, dripping purple irises and paint, his cheeks blushing violet.

Behind them come others. Claire, in vibrant pink; Alex, colored emerald green; Jody, grinning behind soft orange. Crowley is midnight black beside Bobby’s woody brown, and next to them stand Charlie, sweet silvery grey, and Kevin, deep evocative magenta.

In his rainbow of a family, Jack can pick out smiles and tears alike, sometimes both at once. He wonders what it feels like to cry while smiling.

_Wake up,_ Sam says, a hand on his shoulder, Dean’s arm closing around his waist. Cas smiles at him proudly, a warm exhaustion in his eyes.

These people. This family.

They are his.

**I don't care who you are**

**where you're from, what you did**

**as long as you love me**

His eyes open to gentle white.

Long fingers are running through his hair. Jack lifts his head from his arms and Cas smiles at him, eyes warm and fond.

“You don’t sleep enough lately,” he murmurs. Jack rolls his eyes, but can’t keep a smile from stretching across his face.

“I don’t need to sleep, Zod,” he says. Cas hums, squeezing Jack’s shoulder once before letting go as Dean comes towards the table with full plates of bacon and eggs, pressing a kiss to Cas’ lips.

“We all need sleep, Jacky. For different reasons, but for reasons all the same.” Cas looks at Jack pointedly, picking up his fork. “And you need to stop thinking for awhile.”

Jack can only nod, mouth already full and burning. He always forgets how warm food is at first.

Dean’s dumping a damn near pond of syrup on his plate, tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration. Cas sighs, reaching for the bottle in his hands.

“Darling, you can’t -”

“Cas.”

From beside Dean, Sam’s voice comes clear and soft. As he stares at Cas, it seems like the whole world disappears to him, his shaking fingers fidgeting with his wedding ring.

When Cas meets his eyes, a beautiful smile stretches across Sam’s face.

“Cassie,” he whispers. “Honey. Angel.”

Cas’ eyes are glistening, an almost sickeningly sappy expression on his face. Dean’s stopped eating, watching his brother and husband curiously.

“Marry me,” Sam murmurs. “Again. Please.”

Cas’ breath hitches. He stands, wandering around the table towards Sam as Sam continues to ramble, reaching out for Cas’ hands.

“Because I - I like, love you. Like, a lot. Like, more than…” He presses a kiss to Cas’ wedding rings. “More than most anything.”

Cas smiles, so soft and yet so bright, squeezing Sam’s hands. His voice is a breathy whisper, so much lighter than the deep, sad rumble it always has been.

“Of course I will, sweetheart.”

Sam laughs, shaking even as Cas bends down and kisses him, holding Sam’s face in his hands like he’s the most precious thing in the world. Jack watches them with a smile.

A hand tugs at his shoulder, and he looks up to see Dean, a twinkle in his eyes to match the grin on his lips. He nods his head towards the door.

“Let’s leave them to it, alright?”

Jack nods, glancing one last time at Sam and Cas whispering to each other before standing up and following Dean out.

About halfway down the hallway towards the library, he reaches out and takes Dean’s hand. Dean looks at him in surprise, but doesn’t pull away. Jack smiles.

“I love you, Dad.”

Dean huffs out a laugh, bending down to press a kiss to Jack’s head.

“Love you too, kid. More than I should.”

Jack just grins.

**who you are**

**where you're from, what you did**

**as long as you love me**

When it comes down to it, the love between the angel, the righteous man, and the boy with the demon blood has never been anything extraordinary. Everyone likes to paint it as some sort of miraculous legend, a fairytale to tell children, but they’ve never been very simple.

Sam and Cas have been married for ten years and engaged for three days. Sam is sitting across from Jack in the library, thumbing through the pages of a book he’s read fifteen times before. Jack threads beads onto a string, pretending not to notice how Sam’s smiling at him.

Cas and Dean are clearing off the table of maps, gathering herbs and pages of Latin in their arms to lug down to the storage room. As Cas passes Dean by, he presses a kiss to his cheek, whispering something in his ear.

His words echo in Jack’s head.

_You know, most souls come in halves._

Dean tilts his head in confusion, murmuring a question into the still air. Cas just smiles, kissing him.

_Mine came in thirds._

Dean’s eyes widen, along with Cas’ smile.

_Will you marry me, darling?_

Dean kisses him.

Cas’ smile stretches wide and bright, his wings unfurling behind him, glowing with happiness.

Jack closes his eyes, opening his own wings as Sam takes his hand.

“You alright, Jacky?”

Jack grins, feeling all of Sam’s love rush through him with the brush of his feathers against Sam’s skin.

“Never been better.”

**as long as you love me**

**as long as you love me**

There is nothing special about the way their story ends.

Granted, their lives march on. New chapters, sequels, epilogues, they’re still waiting to be added. But the tale of the Winchesters and their angel, that story is over.

There is nothing more left to write, not the way they hold each other at night or kiss each other in day. They live behind closed doors, away from the prying eyes of angels, demons, and God alike.

Cas smiles tiredly, leaning back against Dean’s chest on the bed. His shirt is partially open, displaying lovebites proudly for all the world to see. Dean kisses his shoulder and his smile widens, fingers slipping through the spaces between Sam’s own.

Sam laughs at something Dean’s said, responding with a swoop of his arm and teasing words. His eyes twinkle, something akin to fondness and amusement sparkling in them as Dean scoffs, jokingly hitting Sam’s shoulder.

Dean is grinning, a hand resting over Cas’ beating heart. His banter with Sam becomes rapid and hushed, falling to whispered screams. His eyes light up with pride when Cas laughs at something they’ve said, and he kisses his little brother’s forehead, offering an olive branch for a truce.

Jack smiles, finally pulling himself away from the crack in the door and wandering down to the library, Mary at his heels.

He has some bracelets to make.

_turn your face towards the sun_

_let the shadows fall behind you_

_don’t look back, just carry on_

_and the shadows will never find you._

_\- Rihanna (Towards The Sun)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this mess!  
> thank you for reading!
> 
> have a wonderful day and stay safe and happy!
> 
> :) :) :) :) :) :) :)

**Author's Note:**

> <3 <3 <3


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